“Bailey.” I blinked. “Bailey.”
I hadn’t spoken to her in years, but she would help me, I knew she would. I picked up the phone and dialled the number I remembered, and hoped it was the one she still used. The phone rang a few times, and I held my breath as I waited for an answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” I cleared my throat. “Hey, Bailey?”
“Hiya,” came her response. “Who’s this?”
“It’s Noah,” I said. “Noah Ainsley.”
Using my maiden name felt good, and also like a big fuck you to Anderson.
There was a pregnant pause, then a whispered, “Noah?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “It’s me, Bails.”
There was a rustle on the other end of the line as if she was moving, then I heard her breathing.
“Ye haven’t phoned me in years,” she said. “Ye don’t even look at me when ye see me on the street.”
There was no hate in her voice, no accusation or bitterness, only hurt.
“I’m so sorry, Bailey,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’ve been . . . I’ve been stuck for a very long time. I’ve been trapped in this world with Anderson, and I’m finally seeing now that it’s not a world I have to remain part of if I don’t want to. And I really don’t want to.”
I heard Bailey’s gasp. “You’re leavin’ him, aren’t ye?”
“Yes,” I answered. “But I need help. He’s out right now and I have nowhere to go. This is my only chance.”
“I’ll come for ye,” Bailey announced. “I’ll come and pick ye up, Noah.”
I released a nervous breath. “Really?”
“Of course, but why d’ye want to leave, tonight of all nights?” she demanded, and when I didn’t answer right away, she cursed under her breath. “Has he hurt ye, Noah?”
“Don’t tell Elliot,” I blurted. “He’ll kill Anderson.”
Things had ended badly between us but I knew him . . . he was a real man. He’d go ballistic if he knew how Anderson had been treating me all these years – how he’d abused me in more ways than just physical. Even though I’d hurt Elliot and hadn’t given him the chance to speak to me when I should have, I knew he would still come to my aid. That was the kind of man he was: a gentleman.
“Son of a bitch!” Bailey snapped. “How long has this been happenin’?”
I looked down at my feet. “A very long time.”
“Fuck, Noah, I had no idea. I thought . . . I thought ye were just so hurt by your break-up with Elliot that ye just pushed us away, I never imagined he was the reason why.”
My hands were shaking. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I ruined everything. I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothin’ to be sorry for,” she stressed. “Don’t even think of takin’ any blame upon yourself for what this scumbag has done to ye! D’ye hear me? He’s abused ye. Your silence in that situation isn’t silence, it’s a scream that only you can hear.”
I began to cry. “I miss you so much, and Elliot. God, I ruined everything when I left him. I was so upset and angry with him at the time that I just couldn’t go back to him, but I wish I did.”
“Shhh,” she soothed. “I’m on my way right now, literally leaving the house and running to my car.”
“Be careful,” I sniffed, wiping my nose. “The roads may be dangerous, so much of London has no power. It keeps coming and going here. Watch out for ice too.”
“I will, Noah,” she assured me. “Get whatever you want to bring with ye, I’ll be at your place in a few minutes. I know the buildin’, just not the floor or flat number.”
“Fourth floor,” I said as I glanced out of the window. “Flat 406.”
“Got it. I’ll be right there, I promise.”
I put the phone down and noticed my hand was trembling. I jumped with fright when the lights knocked off for the fifth time in two hours. The darkness scared me. I felt trapped in the flat in which I was forced to spend nearly all of my time. I was here all day every day, but I’d never felt more stuck inside of these walls than I did right now. I looked around and felt nothing but emptiness. There were no happy times here – even the times I’d thought were happy were really sad. I just hadn’t been able to see it through the web Anderson had woven in my mind.
I could see now, though. And I hated what I saw.
As the lights came back on I began to rip the photo frames from the wall and threw them on the floor, feeling powerful when each one of them smashed. I ran into Anderson’s office, grabbed a crowbar he once hit me with and smashed all of his belongings. His prized computer, his precious drawing materials, I slammed the bar into everything. Then I dropped it and focused on the photo album that Anderson kept so close to him. I ripped out all of the pictures and shredded them into pieces, and threw them around the room as if they were confetti.